


The Best Defense

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lagertha ponders the dangers of her new position. Spoilers for episode 1.06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Defense

Lagertha is not used to being in a defensive position.

In the past, she has usually been the aggressor, the one who attacks. Since Ragnar was named earl, however, she has been acutely aware of all those who wish her ill, who would harm their children, who would usurp his place or hers, given the chance. 

Their chance will not come.

"You must be careful, my dear," an old woman--Eyildr's mother or mother-in-law, Lagertha can never remember which--says, as they sit around the fire. Before, in her old life, Lagertha always had something to do: children or animals that needed tending, food to be cooked, chores that awaited her attention. Now, everything is taken care of. Lagertha sits by the fire, feeling her swelling belly. Sometimes she braids Gyda's hair, just to pass the time, although Gyda hates it and barely ever sits still. 

"What do you mean?" Lagertha asks. 

The old woman looks pointedly at Ragnar. He is playing hnefatafl with a group of men and has pulled Athelstan onto his lap, like a child or a lover, in the guise of teaching him the rules. "Better a husband who rapes all the slaves," the woman says, "than a husband with eyes only for one." 

"Go away," Lagertha snaps. The woman complies, of course. Lagertha is the earl's wife, but she cannot shake the woman's words. 

She does not agree with them. She knows Athelstan; she likes him. She trusts him with her children, which is more than she can say for anybody else, man or woman. She will trust him with her husband, as well. Some time later, when the snow is beginning to melt and the sun is visible again on the horizon, Lagertha instructs Athelstan to join her for a walk in the forest. 

She does not prevaricate. There is no point. "Reticence will get you only so far," Lagertha says, as Athelstan puts an arm around her expanding middle, to help her down a slippery hill. "At some point, he will desire you to be direct." 

Athelstan blinks. "I'm not sure..."

"You know exactly what I mean, priest. Do not insult both of us by pretending otherwise." Athelstan's face reddens, but he does not protest further. "He is vain, like all men. You must tell him you've heard great things about his prowess, that you are worried you will not be able to accommodate his enormous girth. This is flattery," she adds, quickly, as Athelstan's eyes widen. "You will be able to."

"Lagertha..." He begins, but she silences him with a raised hand. She is his mistress, after all. 

"When it comes to the act, feel free to be shy and sweet." Lagertha does not possess these attributes. _Perhaps_ , she thinks, _this is why Ragnar is so captivated by Athelstan._ "Blush and stammer all you like. He will enjoy that." He's never had it from her. "He will kiss you, repeatedly. You are familiar with the way of lovers? With tongues?" Athelstan looks as if he wishes the forest floor would open up and devour him whole. "He has an overriding obsession with nipples. You will enjoy it." Lagertha always has. "He will likely use his tongue lower, as well, on your cock. I cannot give you precise instructions as to that, of course. You will need to improvise, but I can assure you, his mouth is very skilled." The idea of Ragnar using his skilled mouth on Athelstan is disturbing, in the best of ways. _On another occasion_ , she thinks, _I will ask to watch_. Athelstan refused her as a participant, but that does not mean he would be adverse to her as an observer. Particularly once Ragnar loosened his inhibitions. 

"When he is inside you," Lagertha goes on, "he will desire a commentary. Tell him it is the best you have ever felt, that you don't know how you ever survived without his cock. Tell him that he is the most skilled lover you have ever had, whether or not it is true." She glances over. "I suspect it will be true." 

"Yes," Athelstan agrees, and there is a hint of humour in his eyes. Lagertha smiles. The baby in her belly kicks, hard; he is the strong boy the seer predicted, she is sure of it. Gyda never kicked like this. Not even Bjorn was so active. He was a sleepy, passive baby, inside the womb and out, although you would not think so to see him now. 

"At the moment of completion," Lagertha advises, "say that you love him. Ragnar is a romantic. It will make it all the better for him. It doesn't matter if you feel it."

"I do feel it." Athelstan stops, suddenly. A nearby tree has begun to bloom, a little early. Lagertha pulls off one of the small, white flowers to take home to Gyda. "I feel something. I'm sorry, Lagertha. I wish I did not..."

"Why?" She snaps. "He is worthy of love. Besides, it is hardly a secret. A blind man could see how you look at one another."

Athelstan's face turns redder, and Lagertha wonders if he is being sincere, if he really didn't know. "I will never attempt to replace you," he says, conciliatory. Lagertha turns to stare at him.

"You never could. I am his wife, I am the bearer of his children. You are a slave. Next to me, you are nothing." But he is useful. If Ragnar's eyes are on Athelstan, then Ragnar will not see the women who flock around him, the ones who might attempt to take Lagertha's place. The ones who might even succeed. "But," Lagertha continues, more gently, "he loves you."

"And you truly do not mind?" Athelstan's voice is unsure, as if this may all be some elaborate trap. Lagertha is a little disappointed by that. They are friends, after all, and she cannot resist teasing him, even now. 

"I am not the one you should be begging for forgiveness, priest." 

Athelstan laughs--he never would have a few months, or even a few weeks ago--and takes her hand to help her across a muddy puddle.

When they arrive back, Ragnar is waiting. He greets Lagertha with a kiss and Athelstan with an outstretched arm. "Come on," he says. "I want to show you something." Lagertha watches them go, Ragnar's arm locked possessively around his beloved Athelstan. Then she goes back into the house, to hold court and to be seen and to make sure nobody forgets exactly who she is.


End file.
